


Cecil Is...

by kindledvirtuosity



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Fluffy Ending, Internal Monologue, M/M, Near Death Experiences, One Shot, Self-Loathing, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindledvirtuosity/pseuds/kindledvirtuosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At that moment, Cecil was unsure of what he was and wasn't. Because Carlos, oh wonderful and amazing Carlos, was constantly making him wonder what he really was. Carlos' words would keep him up all night. He'd wonder the truth behind each word, each phrase, and question just how much Cecil knew himself."</p>
<p>A one shot centering around some of Cecil's thoughts and his mind's inner workings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cecil Is...

 

There's a lot of things Cecil thinks he is.

Cecil thinks himself smart.

Not as smart as Carlos, no. Cecil is not a scientist. He doesn't understand those quantum physic formulas and scatter plot matrices. It isn't as important to Cecil as it is to Carlos that the most basic physics laws don't always work in Night Vale. The journals that fill his lab with numbers and observations make no sense to him in the slightest, and the names of the chemicals and compounds stored in the cabinets are all gibberish to him. No. He is not smart in that sense.

But Cecil does know a lot. A lot more than he ever wanted to know. He knows about the townspeople; from their names to each of their stories. He is always up to date with the happenings of Night Vale. He could name all the streets and businesses and draw a map from memory alone. He knows about all the right places to go to and the places best left alone. Cecil could talk for hours of the things he isn't supposed to know, of the things that would have made him disappear years ago, had it not been for his job. He knows of the foreboding feeling and sense of impending doom that threatens him and the citizens in just about every waking moment of his life. And he knows it won't leave for a long time. So, in a sense, Cecil considered himself to be quite knowledgeable, if at least in information of the town.

Even more so, Cecil knows a lot of nifty tricks. Tricks and skills that have kept him alive and well throughout his life. He knows how to survive virtually any situation that arises. His years in the scouts with his best friend have served him well. He is fairly prepared for anything. Or at least, for anything he could remember how to counteract.

He can't remember some of the events that led to the things he knows. Cecil is not quite sure how he acquired some of the skills he uses now on a day to day basis. The skill is obviously there, but as to how he learnt it... well, he doesn't remember much of anything, really. Besides a few years back, most of his life is in a fine haze. But that's fine. He doesn't mind that. Many people couldn't remember near as many things as he could. At least he was alive, and he could sleep reasonably well knowing that.

 

Although Cecil is not always sure on how smart he is, there are quite a few things he's sure he is.

For one thing, he is loving. Sometimes Cecil thinks he is too loving. Those bonds he has made will surely be a problem someday. They have already been small issues in the past. His bonds to people like his boyfriend Carlos, his niece Janice, his childhood best friend Earl Harlan, his intern -now mayor- Dana, and even his cat Khoshekh are not good. And he knows that. Cecil has seen enough people torn apart for loving someone too dearly. But he can't stop feeling. No, there was a time where he didn't feel and it was a dim existence. However, now with so many friends and family, he can't stop thinking about the people he loves. He can't disconnect those feelings and those emotions. He just can't. After having felt so empty and void for so long, he didn't dare return to it. It seemed just about impossible to Cecil.

Almost as impossible as leaving.

That was another thing...

 

Cecil considers himself is a realist.

He knows he won't be able to leave this town, he'll never be able to go anywhere outside of Night Vale. There's a force that won't let him. There's a voice that screams against it. As much as he may want to just grab all his things and run, run for miles, for years and never look back, he can't.

Even with Carlos out in the desert otherworld, he knows the idea of going to visit him is more dream than reality. If Station Management approved vacation, Cecil was certain something else would restrain him from leaving town. He hasn't left since... well, since his trip to Europe, and that was a time far behind him.

He's bound to this town, and will be forever. He can accept that. It is why he considers himself a realist. Because he knows as sure as his beating heart he will never be able to leave

But that's fine. He can stay. He can watch other people come and go. He knows they all will. He's seen them arrive with bright eyes, bright faces, and has watched those faces fall and those able bodies deteriorate. Cecil has seen them grow, develop, age, and ultimately die. That was but the constant cycle of life and death. Sometimes people died too early, others died much later than expected. But even so, the finality of death was hardly ever challenged. He has become used to it, and it shocks him just what a normal factor death is to his life. 

Or at least, until Carlos almost lost his life.

 

At that moment, Cecil wasn't sure what he was.

He lost himself, as Carlos fell, bloodied, to the floor. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted Carlos back. He wanted everything back at that moment. He was not realistic, he was hysterical. He was not loving, he was vengeful. And for those brief moments, he did not know a single certain thing and it was terrifying.

But then, -oh what joy it brought him to say 'but then'- Carlos was back, and Carlos was okay. More than okay. Carlos was better than ever, in fact. Carlos now knew what he wanted in his life, never took anything in it for granted, including Cecil. And Cecil was glad he had gotten to see that change.

 

Cecil is still not sure what he became once Carlos came back to him.

When Carlos wanted to be with him.

When Carlos kissed him.

When Carlos said “I love you.” for the first time.

At that moment, Cecil was unsure of what he was and wasn't. Because Carlos, oh wonderful and amazing Carlos, was constantly making him wonder what he really was. Carlos' words would keep him up all night. He'd wonder the truth behind each word, each phrase, and question just how much Cecil knew himself.

Carlos liked to say many things to Cecil. Many things that stuck to him even now.

 

Carlos says Cecil is beautiful.

Cecil does not agree.

 

Cecil is many things, but he is not beautiful. His appearance is odd, not fitting the description of what he would consider aesthetically pleasing. He doesn't need a mirror to assure him of this. He is absolutely certain he is not handsome in the slightest. His beauty was definitely not in his physical appearance. It isn't in his interior either. He is a cruel man, with a vengeful nature. He is angry and lonely and confused and scarred both in and out. His beauty is not in his mental state. Cecil is far from beautiful, inside or out.

Carlos, on the other hand, is beautiful. Physically, he is handsome. His unkempt locks of hair swirled this way and that, looking so perfectly disheveled; it was charming. Carlos had a strong jaw, that gave him a dependent appearance. That jaw had softened as time progressed in Night Vale. His teeth were perfect and beautiful, and his smiles made Cecil's heart melt. Everything about Carlos was astoundingly beautiful. Mentally, his mind was a treasure. Carlos was smart and brilliant. He was cautious, empathetic, forgiving, and open. He is sure of himself and his scars have only made him stronger...better. He was beautiful in every sense, unlike Cecil.

 

Carlos also said Cecil is important.

Cecil does not agree with that either.

 

Cecil is replaceable, as anything else is. When his time finally comes, he shall be replaced by someone new and memories of him will disappear. Another Voice would appear and take his spot, they would speak and guide the town in their own way. And when that time came, no one and nothing would remember him, he was certain of it. Memory is a complicated thing. Even more so when it comes to people. He will not leave behind any kind of legacy besides dust added to the sandy desert. The word 'important' was definitely not the right word. He had nothing to give that someone else could not give in his place. That was a fact.

 

Carlos said Cecil is strong.

And that is where Carlos was most wrong.

 

Cecil is not strong. He is weak and weary. His soul is older than his body frame. He is tired and exhausted and feels broken and jumbled inside.

He's been in that state for a long, long, time.

Cecil allows himself to stay broken. To prefer ignorance over the pain of awareness. A strong person does not do that. A strong person looks to fix himself and grow. Cecil does not. Cecil tries to avoid growing if at all possible. It wasn't worth the progression, the pain and frustration of attempting to improve, only to fall back once more. Regress back into his shell and end up even worse than he had started.

There were future generations that would grow. Future generations that would take things into their own hands. The citizens of Night Vale had finally begun to show awareness. Cecil was glad to see action among the youth and to see the citizens open their minds each day. At that rate, Cecil could imagine and -dare he say it- hope for a better town.

He hoped he would see it.

But nothing is certain. Cecil knows that. Cecil knows a lot of things.

 

He knows what he isn't.

He isn't beautiful. He isn't important. He isn't strong.

He is ugly. He is replaceable. He is weak.

 

But he will survive.

Cecil has survived for a long time. And he will continue to survive. He wills to keep living. He wills to see how things will turn out, to see the world open up before him. To see a day where people aren't in terror, and their town can be at peace with itself and being the town he's seen in dreams and visions.

And maybe someday he will be everything Carlos sees in him. And maybe someday he can add those words to the things he is. Until then, he will let Carlos keep telling him what he will be one day, and let those promises hang on the one phrase Carlos keeps repeating.

 

"I love everything about you, Cecil."

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fairly experimental writing style for me. I just wanted to write an internal monologue based around what Cecil may be thinking. I wrote it some time before the Strex Arc and only recently finished it. I thought I might as well post it, instead of letting it catch virtual dust in my laptop.
> 
> Sorry if at times it may have sound broken...


End file.
